Winged Resilience
by Lady Penrose
Summary: There was beauty in chaos. Chaos was an art. And Uta was an artist. However, he felt a bit repetitive in his style and wanted to paint his next tragedy a bit differently. The lovely little thing he happened upon would be his next masterpiece; he was going to enjoy ruining her. Wouldn't he? [Recognizable characters belong to Ishida Sui, OCs are mine]
1. Prologue

.: **Prologue** :.

. . .

He watched from a distance. The vision of mystery flashed briefly every time a car passed and obstructed his view. She was perched under an iridescent spotlight, her pale dress catching the chromas as the breeze tugged softly on the hem. Dark silk draped off her shoulders, allowing a generous view of skin and some loose curls curtained around her face while the rest fell in long waves. So much hair...what colour was it? It may have been brown but it was hard to tell under the wash of so many neon lights.

This was the third night he'd seen her, and he always found her in the exact same spot. He'd been searching and searching for the one and after stumbling upon this girl, he couldn't help but think she was perfect. He sighed a little. This was weird. What he was doing was creepy. But he wasn't dong anything damning, was he? There was nothing wrong with having some coffee from the local cafe at the exact same time she'd be there. Right?

He'll eventually have the guts to just go and ask her. Maybe they'll have a nice chat first. He really wanted to get to know her. He wanted to find out what colour those eyes were; why they were always downcast. Sometimes he thought she looked kind of sad.

He swallowed, felt around his pocket for some money, and scanned his surroundings to make sure she didn't catch anyone else's attention. It was clear. This puzzling damsel could be all his tonight. He just had to give himself a push forward.

Their gazes locked as he crossed the street and brought himself over, only parting when he timidly brought the bill into view. She nodded and gave him a captivating smile, which he returned upon discovering her eyes were a charming shade of gray. Were they gray? It was hard to determine since she was still under the tinted lights, but he was able mark the foreign traces in her features.

She motioned for him to follow her into an alley and led him away from all the city noise. As he stared at the back of her head, he rummaged through his mind for something to talk about.

"So uh...what else do you do? I mean besides—do you have any hobbies?" For goodness sake, his friends were right. He was hopeless.

"I had many hobbies."

Had? Did she mean to say that? He considered asking, but eventually decided to ignore it. "What kind of hobbies?"

"Reading."

The short, simple answers weren't helping with his increasing nerves, but he figured he should keep on trying. Not all mysteries were easy to crack.

"I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first. My name's Eiji. A-and you are?"

"Ritsuka." It was a pretty name, but it didn't suit her.

"Well, Ritsuka-san do you have any recommendations?"

This time she didn't reply right away, but instead pondered for a bit before saying, "...Winged Resilience."

He thought she wouldn't say anymore, but a second later her voice suddenly sounded a bit livelier as she went into further detail. He discovered it was a fairly successful novel by a not so famous wordsmith who, as Ritsuka strangely but solemnly pointed out, had perished many months ago.

"What's it about?" Eiji could honestly care less about books or dead authors, but he was entranced by Ritsuka's sudden momentum in the conversation. He hoped to heighten the mood with his question. Her voice was velvet, but it sounded like music when she was happy, or at least content. It made him smile. Thank goodness it was dark, otherwise if she turned around then she'd see that he was as red as a poppy in a white bouquet.

"It's centered around an angel, Alto, who was banned from heaven."

"Woah. What'd he do that was so bad?"

"He relished in setting cities on fire and watching the world burn."

Eiji let out a small chuckle. "Doesn't sound like much of a hero."

"He's actually the villain, but I like to call him him the hero of his own story."

The conversation began to die after that, but Eiji revived it with the occasional inquiry about her other hobbies.

"I used to study theater and playwriting." "I was also a painter, before." "I once indulged in some woodworking." _Used to, was, once. _She was so spirited talking about things she so obviously enjoyed, but she kept referring to her life as if it were in the past.

She just didn't belong, he thought. She seemed far too tame, far too refined to be where she is. Perhaps she fell on hard times and this was all she could do to make it by? He considered the idea of helping her out after their 'business' was done, and it almost led him to having second thoughts about the whole endeavor until she suddenly stopped. He almost rammed into her, but luckily he caught himself just in time.

Eiji squinted as he looked about, finding that they were at the back entrance of rather old, neglected building. "Is this where you live?" He questioned, looking at her with pity.

She shook her head and told him it was simply a safe and private place to do business.

The alleys were already quite dark but there was even less light once the door closed after them. Only the moon offered it's glow through a dusty window. It made the situation feel a bit...romantic? He blushed and ridiculed himself. As if good romances had this particular kind of start. Although, his hopeful side told him it wasn't impossible.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught her slipping off her shawl. He turned around quickly, a bit embarrassed, and tried his best to undo the top of his pants with shaky fingers. Tonight would be his first time with a girl, but he was a bit relieved knowing he'd spend it with a gentle little thing like her.

He heard some rapid movement behind him right before a pain rippled through his back and sent him falling on his knees. It took him another thrust of a blade to realize he was being stabbed. He tried to scramble to his feet, but the wounds made him weak and the sudden weight on top of him prevented any chance of crawling away. He cried out as he felt the knife plunge into his back, piercing flesh and bone, until his screams faded into whimpers. The last thing he heard was her soft voice, sobbing and uttering something he couldn't quite catch until his very last breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."


	2. Chapter 1

_Alto happened upon a crowd rejoicing as a woman burned to death on a pyre. Pillars of blazing red caressed the sky as smoke floated toward the heavens. The woman's skin blistered, her flesh melted, her blood dripped down her legs and painted the ashes beneath her. He'd never been more mesmerized. The executions stretched from dusk to dawn, one witch after the other being hauled onto the mounds of charred bones, all meeting the same fate. However, none of them were guilty of any of the accusations thrust upon them. Alto knew that much, but he let it continue. This was filth being destroyed and he loved that. Their screams melded into harmonious symphonies in his ears. Fire was cleansing, and no one in this world was ever clean enough. Fire. Fire was his weapon. His whip. His gavel. Fire was ravishing. It was elegant. It made the sorry, unworthy souls so much more **beautiful**. Fire. Fire was his. _

_People have lived in constant fear of the demon that mercilessly reduced everything and everyone to ashes. When he spread his wings and his silhouette danced in the sky, they knew he was summoning the infernos upon them. They fled, they hid, they tried to ward him off, but they were fools. They couldn't escape him. The last thing they see, the last thing they ever remember is that beast's twisted laughter and his crooked grin as he watched the flames consume them. _

_Alto, the nightmare from Hell. Heaven refused him any redemption but he didn't care. He loved setting things on fire and watching the world burn._

_**\- Winged Resilience**_

. . .

* * *

.: **Chapter 1** :.  
. . .

_"I was born sick, but I love it—_

No.

"_Alright, call in to make a suggestion for my—_

No thanks.

_"—another victim of "Vixen", a ghoul whose activities caught the attention of the CCG—_

Still on this stuff?

_"__Unmei wakatsu kanashiki futago__—_

Uta flung his last eraser at the radio, successfully hitting the button to change the station again. It had been ten minutes since he started trying to find some music to work to without leaving the comfort of his chair. Eleven stations and fifteen erasers later, and he has come across nothing but old songs that have lost their bite and odd new releases that bit too much. He thought it strange that he only found one radio host dedicated to providing—outdated—reports about the on-goings of ghouls. Other stations that weren't playing songs were either shows with ridiculous comedians or mundane interviews with celebrities. Maybe people didn't really make informing the public a priority. That, or humans just chose to be ignorant.

Humans took everything for granted. Many of them have yet to taste _real_ despair, but Uta could only name about one or two ghouls that have not yet suffered. Maybe three at most.

Ghouls had to kill and lie just to keep breathing, constantly fearful of either going hungry or being hunted. Humans, on the other hand, rarely prioritized survival the way ghouls did. For them, it was always about living. Each one took their own twists and turns with that luxury. They had a chance to a fate that ghouls were deprived of; a paradise untouched by ugliness. They could choose that, but they didn't. They weren't angelic beings so they allowed themselves to succumb to sin. They lied to each other, betrayed their friends, abandoned their family, and even murdered one another for things as simple as money. The CCG oppressed their predators to maintain a peace while the blissfully ignorant masses put their efforts in vain and caused chaos amongst themselves.

That's why Uta found them so amusing. Whether it was a snack or a story, the occasional human customer never failed in providing either. But they always ended up being the latter, more or less, if they weren't unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of his eyes. So when he smelled one approaching his studio he made no hesitation to interrupt his work and grab a pair of dark, opaque glasses.

"Hello."

He smiled at her and returned to adding the finishing touches on his latest project, lifting his eyes from the mask every now and then to follow the girl. This one was poised and held some level of sophistication as she wandered around the displays. She may have come from a high standing, and the thought delighted Uta since he rarely got the chance to meet a human from the richer classes. He always figured the wealthy ones were either too busy, afraid, or disgusted to visit areas like this themselves. The 4th ward wasn't exactly a 5-star resort.

He made many attempts at conversation, trying to pry something good out of her, but she was stingy with her words. A little disappointed, Uta let it be and settled for just watching her instead. He had a habit of seeing certain customers as pieces of art, so he critiqued her like he would a painting. Ash brown hair cascaded in a heap of dramatic waves he assumed was probably frustrating to maintain, especially since the length of it ran all the way down to her hips. He didn't find the effort to be a waste; that hair was his favourite feature. Aside from that, he thought her choice of clothing complimented her fair complexion rather well: an off-white dress that ended inches above her knees and a vibrant, wine red shawl hanging loosely around her arms.

He eventually deemed it a shame to not attempt a design for her so he abandoned his current project and picked up his sketch book, flipping it to an empty page. Uta fled from his seat to scrutinize her properly and startled the poor thing when he suddenly popped up behind her. "Would you like one custom-made? I'd rather make something just for you." He didn't give her a chance to answer, having already formed the shape of a mask with feather-soft lines. "Do you like that colour?" He took the silk spilling off her forearm in his hand, admiring how smooth the fabric felt on his fingers. "It's very nice on you, I think I'll use it."

"Thank you."

This time he kept looking from the paper to her face in between pencil marks, pursing his lips as he came up with more questions.

"You don't look all Japanese. Are you mixed?"

"People have asked if one my parents was European."

"Were they?"

"I wouldn't know."

Uta tilted his head, puzzled until he quickly caught on. "Were you adopted?" He kept leaning in with every question he shot, but had backed off when he realized he was getting too close. If she were a ghoul then he wouldn't have cared, but he had to remind himself for a second that she was human. He couldn't give her a chance to get close enough to notice his kakugan, not unless he wanted to make a meal out of her. Which he didn't.

"Yes, I was," she answered faintly before walking off somewhere behind him, probably to look at the other masks.

Uta was too preoccupied with drawing to keep his eyes on her, but not so distracted that he didn't notice her pulse suddenly quicken. He turned around just in time to see the gleam of a knife disappear behind his sketchbook, right before he felt something hit his abdomen.

The blade snapped clean off and fell against the tile with a hopeless clatter. Her face slowly gave in to confusion until Uta's glasses slipped off and followed the blade to the floor. He hardened his gaze into her silver eyes, watching them grow wide with panic. Her lips trembled as they tried to force out something other than incoherent whimpers.

"G-ghoul..."

"What are you doing hunting ghouls with a toothpick." He dropped his sketchpad on a nearby stand and loomed over her, shrinking the distance between them. Up close, he noticed just how tired and deprived she actually looked; skin too lackluster and cheeks too hollow to assume she was eating enough and hints of dark circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep. She looked haunted by something. Something other than him. He would have loved to know her story, but he needed to clean this mess up.

"You know I can't let you go now, right?" He brought one of his inked hands to her neck, tracing his fingers along her throat as he brushed a thumb against her racing pulse.

"P-please..."

Uta smirked. The begging was his favourite part. Everyone had such marvelous expressions when they plead for mercy.

"C-could you please...help me?"

He tiled his head again. Help her? What ever could she mean?

"Please," she said again, voice cracking and reaching just the right pitch he loved to hear. It was enough to convince him.

"Begging won't do." In spite of his words he took a step back, easily hiding his intrigue behind a dispassionate mask. "But I do love a good bribe."

A ray of hope briefly shone on her face, but as she searched the silence for a reply that hope quickly diminished. "I...I don't know what I can give you, but please...maybe we can figure out a deal later? I beg of you, please _please_ help me."

What? She wasn't even going to try and bargain something? Did she not have a single penny to her name? Oh, well. Uta wasn't really asking for petty items, anyway. The look of complete and utter desperation on her face was enough. It had him wondering what exactly would compel her to beg her potential killer for help, or why she was going around stabbing people in the first place. It made something inside him burn, he was almost dying to know.

After another second, he decided it would be fun to see how things turned out. Besides, making such a pretty thing into an entrée would be a waste. "Maybe one more 'please' will do the trick."

Something in her rekindled and, clasping her hands together, she eagerly complied. "Please!"

He smiled. That, he had to admit, was cute. "You have such a way with words."

. . .

* * *

. . .

Death was staring her in the face; pupils as red as the blood on her hands and scelera as black as her crimes. The air she took in grew cold and froze her lungs, rendering her paralyzed beneath his shadow. Something in her was aching to scream, but she didn't. There was no point in running. Memories of the past few months clamored through her head, leading her to the conclusion that she wasn't worthy of being saved. She deserved it, she thought. She deserved an agonizing finale as a monster's dinner plate. The masks all around them warped into the faces of demons, howling their judgments as they played jury in her trial. It was here, with all these bleak faces glaring down at her, that she would atone for her sins.

She would have welcomed her executioner's teeth sinking into her throat, but her subconscious echoed a final reminder of why her life couldn't end there. If she were gone, what would become of _him? _She saw his death playing as she stared into the inexpressive eyes of the ghoul before her. Dying now would be fatal to him, and if he dies then walking this grisly path would have been all for naught. So for his sake and the lives she has taken for his sake, she had to try and get out of this situation alive.

"P-please..." she watched a corner of the ghoul's lips turn up, but he said nothing else. "C-could you please...help me?"

No reply.

"Please." She only hoped that she could appeal to his sense of mercy. If he didn't have one then this would be the bitter end of everything.

To her surprise, the ghoul retreated and told her he would settle for a bribe. Relief crashed over her like a rogue wave on a desert island, but it was short-lived after realizing that she had absolutely nothing to offer. Still, she continued to plead with him and almost fell on the verge of tears. Every word that came out of her mouth made her realize just how weak and pathetic she was.

"Maybe one more 'please' will do the trick."

A breath of hope inflated her again. "Please," she blurted out. For someone walking a path to hell, she was unbelievably lucky. A damned soul like her didn't deserve mercy, not even the devil's, but fate was exceptionally kind to her in her darkest hour.

_Unless fate was just being a cruel tease. . ._

The man she was leading down the alleyway was difficult to read, his face barren of anything other than curiosity. Still, she had the lightest inkling that he wasn't bad. He _did_ spare her. Perhaps this man could be a friend? One that could—no. She was just being stupidly hopeful, trying to grasp at something after drowning for so long. She couldn't let the thirst for salvation blind her. The last ghoul she trusted had done something worse than merely eat her. Who's to say that the man trailing behind her wasn't the same? She should heed her lesson, drill it in her stubborn head that not everything was what it seemed. People liked to wear masks and this man was a mask _maker_! He helped people deceive other people. Not only that, but had she not spoken up then he surely would have sent her into the next world.

She clutched the handle, a useless remnant of her one and only weapon, in her hands. If things turned sour, how could she protect herself?

She turned her head slightly and peered at him from the corner of her eye. He had pulled the hood of his dark sweater over his head and had those glasses over his eyes again. The sun had already begun to set, slowly cloaking them in the shadows of buildings. With evening so near, what was the point in wearing such big, dark glasses? He may have been trying to hide his kakugan, but couldn't he flick those off like a switch?

"I'm Uta, by the way," he said suddenly, as if he'd notice her prying gaze.

She faced forward again and quickly gave her surroundings a once-over to make sure she was going the right way. She recognize the area up ahead where buildings grew more sparse and overgrown weeds began littering the empty lots like an infestation.

"You don't have to tell me your name. I could just call you knife-girl."

"...Aislynn."

"Iceland?"

"Aislynn," she said again, this time louder and more clearly. At this point there wasn't any need for an alias. She was the prey and he the predator. There was no chance he would let her escape with the knowledge of what he was. She wouldn't dare report such a thing to anyone, not even the CCG, but he didn't know that. Uta probably trusted Aislynn even less than she trusted him, but that didn't stop her from worrying about the noose around her neck.

. . .

* * *

. . .

He stared wordlessly at the apartment complex Aislynn had led him to. It looked too rundown to be habitable; the yard was barren of anything except for thick patches of weeds, the concrete exterior was crumbling with vines webbing in and out of cracks, and all the windows were shattered. Some of them were even missing glass completely. It was surprising that this building hasn't been scheduled for demolition yet. The inside looked like something out of a horror movie. The typical dead or broken light bulbs stared down at them as they walked the corridor. There was dust, debris, and all sorts of rubbish blanketing the floor of every room he could peer inside of. The garbage thinned out the further they walked down the hall, so he guessed they were probably getting closer to where she actually lived.

Judging from the buzzing sound he was hearing from somewhere, an old generator or two must have still worked, which meant a source of electricity. The building probably still had some running water as well since Aislynn didn't smell unclean. She actually smelled like a garden. A garden smothered in cheap soap.

He was about to comment on how extremely lucky she was, stumbling upon a barely active place like this, until his ears picked up something strange down at the far end of the hall. The noise was faint and muffled, but he was able to make sense out of it the closer they came. They stopped in front of a door marred in old paint that chipped away with age, but was brazened with a newly installed lock. Aislynn slid the key in, twisted, and kept her hand on the knob, unmoving and silent, as if she were rethinking her decision to unveil whatever was on the other side. Uta waited patiently and watched the profile of her lips quiver until she finally had a "fuck-it" moment and pushed the door open.

The discord of weeping and wailing cut through the air, attacking Uta with an assault of needles in his ears. Yet, it was Aislynn who covered her own as if she couldn't take it. "H-he's been crying for days," she sputtered weakly. On the other side of the apartment was a thin, white sheet tacked to a wall that Aislynn moved aside to reveal another room. It was vacant of anything except for an electric lamp and cardboard box sitting right in the middle. Inside it was the source of dissonance: a tiny figure thrashing about as it put a siren's lungs to shame.

The infant appeared woefully malnourished, almost gaunt. Its clothing only served to emphasize the scrawniness. A sweater too baggy to properly fit bunched up around its torso and long sleeves flapped about as it flailed its arms. The flimsy hat that sat on its head slipped over its eyes as it struggled to escape the nest of blankets. What exactly did Aislynn want Uta to do? Sing it to sleep? Its shrill screaming worsened as it pushed up part of the hat and opened an eye. Uta's face didn't move, but what he was looking at was enough to catch the breath in his throat. Staring back at him was a crimson iris and black scelera, just like his own.

"Oh, he's hungry," he said plainly.

The questions that have been running through his head answered themselves all at once. The reason Aislynn had attacked him, the favor she wanted from him, the haunted look in her eyes; it was all due to the little bundle in his makeshift cradle.

She fell on her knees like she was too weak to hold herself up anymore. "I don't know what to do," she cried into her hands, phrases coming out in strained, muddled sobs. "I can't...I can't anymore. I'm so tired. I haven't slept or eaten anything decent in days. He hasn't eaten in a week. I can't...I thought if I didn't get anything today, I would have had to give him on of my arms or—"

"I'll get some dinner for him."

Aislynn lifted her tear-stained face, brows high and eyes wide as she looked at Uta as if he were some sort of messiah.

"But there's still that deal. What will you give me in return?"

The concept of words seemed to escape her, but she looked around as if some payment would materialize out of thin air.

He smiled. "I'm kidding. I'm not that petty."

Before she could say anything he was already shuffling out of the apartment. As he walked down the hall, occasionally kicking trash out of his path, Uta disappeared into his thoughts as the revelation dawned on him. There have been whispers of men just vanishing off the streets in the 5th and 6th wards, only to be found later as maggot-infested skeletal remains. Each case has had a number of witnesses claiming that the victim was last spotted with a young woman. The first incident was around 5 months ago, but it was just recently that the Doves linked it all to ghoul activity and started referring to that young women as Vixen.

But Vixen wasn't a ghoul. No. Uta had discovered that she was nothing more than a human woman playing huntress for the real hunter.

. . .

The sun was gone when Uta returned, and the place was noticeably quieter. The infant's crying had weakened to a series of frustrated squeals and whimpers. He hoisted the lifeless body further up his shoulder, keeping it balanced with one hand as he carried a wrinkled up paper bag in the other. Aislynn was at the kitchen table, fast asleep with her head pillowed on her arms. The candle beside her flickered, creating shadows that danced across her face and highlighted the fresh, wet streaks lining her cheeks. He decided not to wake her. Instead, he gently set the bag next to her and hoped she was fond of whatever it was he bought. Did human women even like things from bakeries? Luckily, the dainty beast awaiting dinner shouldn't be as finicky so feeding it would be no problem. He found the baby still thrashing about, having managed to kick the blanket off its tiny feet. It seemed to glare at Uta as he walked closer, but that was just the effect of the kakugan.

Switching on the lamp, he noticed, for the first time, three letters written in bold, black marker on the side of the box. "Jun?" Uta tilted his head, not really expecting a reply. "Junjun." He dropped the body on the floor, sat down, and was about to twist off a hand when he noticed that the little devil had no teeth.

"Right," he breathed out, snapping off an entire arm before heading back to the kitchen.

He leaned over Aislynn a little, poking her shoulder and finding some amusement in making her stir. She didn't look the part of Vixen, obviously. She seemed like a modest girl, and didn't appear any less helpless than when she was awake. Whole new questions began to pop up in his head. What was she doing here? Why was she putting herself through this much grief? Was the child even hers? He doubted it. The child was a ghoul and the girl he was looking at now was very human. On top of that, he thought she was too young to even be a mother. Of course, accidents happened with young people, but an accident occurring between a human and a ghoul was like the ocean catching fire.

Her eyes snapped open and she shot up, yelping in surprise at Uta's closeness. He gave her space to recover and watched her sleepy gaze take in his appearance, landing on the thing dangling from his grip.

Uta grinned ever so slightly. "I must be very attractive right now." He knew what she was looking at, but he couldn't help but make a few jabs to lighten the mood a little. He pulled a sleeve over his wrist and wiped off the blood from his face and neck.

"Sorry to wake you, but you do have a blender, yes?"

She nodded toward the cupboards. "Second one to the left."

"That's yours by the way," he said, using the severed arm to gesture at the paper bag.

Aislynn kept knitting her brows together and pressing her lips thin as she listened to him strip flesh off of bone and plop it into the blender. At one point, in between taking large bites out of her cup of bread, he noticed her lips move. She would mouth something again every once in a while, but would never actually say anything out loud. She did it as the blade liquified everything in the container, as the roar of the machine died down, and even as he poured the paste into a mug. Her mouth would move, but a sound never came out. It was when he started toward the other room that these silently formed words turned into clear whispers. _It's just a corpse,_ she repeated to herself over and over as she clutched at the silver cross dangling from neck.

"Okay, Junjun." His fussing became more frenzied as the delicious aroma of pureed homeless man permeated the room. Uta squatted next to him and spooned the red, sludgy liquid from the mug, carefully feeding Junjun as he took each bite greedily. He grew less fidgety after a few spoonfuls, and it only took a couple more after that for his scelera to fade back to white. Uta reached over to lift the hat off his face and that's when he noticed that the kid had big, black irises that gave him a doe-eyed kind of look. He gave Uta a toothless grin and bubbly squeal, hands waving and trying to grasp at the spoon as a streak of red dripped from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

"Thank you."

Uta turned around to see Aislynn leaning against the doorway, her smile weak compared to Junjun who was just having a ball over nothing.

"Thank you so much for the help...and for the muffin, too."

"Ah, so that's what it was." Uta waved away the gratitude. It was only the natural thing to do. It would have been pointless not give her the help she begged for, especially since he had closed shop and followed her all this way just out of curiosity. None of it was for nothing, either. He made some rather interesting discoveries, and he was somewhat itching to know what a baby was like. He's rarely ever dealt with small children himself. He couldn't say that feeding one was the most exciting thing ever, but he found it strangely gratifying.

He went back to feeding the kid until he was scraping the bottom of the mug, pretending not to notice Aislynn's lingering presence until something resurfaced in his mind. "There's something I want to know."

Aislynn remained silent, but he assumed she was all ears. "Why's he—", he nodded to Junjun,"—with you? Or better yet, why are you with the him?"

There was a long pause before she answered. It had gotten so quiet that he could hear the seconds tick by, even with the absence of an actual clock .

"Who would have taken care of him if I just left? It's not like I could drop him off at an orphanage or at a police station. I can't really risk going up to ghouls, either, and I heard some of them were into cannibalism..."

"Didn't you know what you were getting into?"

"Yes but..." she looked at him, face full of a warmth that made it hard to believe she could even break a heart, much less stab a man to death. "He's so helpless. I didn't see a killer and I still don't. I just see a baby who needs someone to take care of him."

Uta hummed in reply, but said nothing else. The chain of pity was warped in this situation; it was rare for a human to sympathize with a ghoul. However, it won't be like this for long. The baby will get stronger. Aislynn can keep insisting on bringing him food, but what will happen if he's starving and she comes back short-handed? Junjun won't be able to separate nurturer from dinner and it'll be Aislynn's blood and entrails splattered across these walls someday.

"Do you think you can...maybe...keep...bringing back food for him?"

Of course, there was that, but that was out of the question. "Sorry, but I got a business to run and my own skin to save." The 4th ward has been dominated by the CCG thanks to Uta's reckless rampages as the former "peacemaker". They'll probably be snooping around the areas more because of Aislynn's trail, as well.

The disappointment from his rejection had eaten her lifeless. She looked like the most destroyed human being in the world and she was just absolutely breathtaking in her despair. He could just leave her like that and watch her wither away in the grave she dug for herself, but that was too boring and he didn't like leaving loose ends untied. Not to mentioned if she keeps up, the CCG's grip on the area will only get tighter.

"I'll take you two to the 20th ward."

. . .

* * *

**a/n: Hooraaay! Sorry it took so long. I was actually working on this chapter the entire Spring Break, but it took a while to get it all finished because I have a friend who is acting as my editor; she gives me feedback and I revise as I see fit. Every chapter will go through the same process, because I have so much thought in this story and I want to get more serious about writing. I want to give you readers the best I can possibly produce!**

**For those Tokyo Ghoul fans who have only watched the anime, this story will be following the manga. I'm not saying to go read it(though, I highly recommend it because it's a genius's work c:). It's just a heads up, since the second season doesn't exactly follow the manga. Also, Uta in the manga is very ambiguous, and as a result I struggled a bit with his character. So hopefully, my take on him is alright. I'd like to hear what you guys think c:**

**Another thing: Aislynn is an OC I've had for years, and perhaps my oldest. You may be seeing her in other places in the future, since I've been planning her as a main character in an original project. The reason I used her in a fanfiction is because I am in love with how she and Uta contrast, in both looks and personality. Opposites attract, but those two are just so far apart on the spectrum and I think that whatever happens between them will just be morbidly beautiful.**

**That's all for now. Take care~ ^_^**


	3. Chapter 2

**a/n: This chapter touches the subjects of abuse and self-hate. This is a warning to those who are sensitive to the topics or have any triggers pertaining to them.**

* * *

.: **Chapter 2** :.  
. . .

20th Ward - Miyahara Estate, 15 Months Prior

Aislynn dashed out of the cab, throwing the car door open with a force that could have snapped it off its hinges. Her pleasant life was swelling into a foggy daze as her brain swirled around in pieces she couldn't put together. She didn't know what to make of the news she just learned. Her mind couldn't graze anything else. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. Not the promise she made to her friends to meet up later that evening. Not the offer she got from the local opera house about producing one of her plays. Not even the exam she had tomorrow morning that was worth 50% of her grade, or the fact that the notes vital to it were being blown across the night, scattered just like her thoughts. Everything was rendered mundane compared to the suffocating weight coming down around her. She ignored the icy, needle-like stabs of wind against her skin, and paid no heed the taxi driver's faded voice yelling at her to come back for her damned coat. She just wanted to see her family right away. She needed to talk someone; her father, mother, or any of her brothers. Anyone who would be willing to understand. Would they know what to do? Would they help? The panic thickened and coursed through her veins, powering her through the cold as each footfall left a harsh imprint in the perfectly groomed grass.

Aislynn's heart receded further into the pit of her stomach when the towering doors of her home didn't immediately welcome her inside. Misako should have been there waiting to throw those doors apart just like yesterday and every day before. She was supposed to encase the girl in a hug and shower her with questions about her day or why she looked so hysterical. She made it a mission to always be on time to relieve Aislynn of her belongings and tell her that her parents were waiting for her at the dinner table.

The lights were on which meant people were home, but that didn't help the dread in Aislynn's chest. From the weak glow shining through the windows, she could tell the inside were unusually dim. She found that the he doors were unlocked as well, both of them hanging open just a crack.

Maybe she was just worrying too much. Right? Someone must have forgotten to close the door. Maybe that someone was Misako, who had to go run an emergency errand. Maybe that emergency errand was to get more light bulbs. Yes, that was it. Aislynn tried in vain to convince herself that that was all there was, but these out of place cogs made her feel like everything was about to tumble off a cliff.

A strong breeze did her the gentlemanly favor of pushing open the doors, the groan of their weight eerily dragging on as they revealed the horror awaiting her inside.

Screaming. _Screaming_. _SCREAMING._ **SCREAMING.** Someone was screaming in her ears and it took a while for her to notice that no one else was there. No one else was alive. Everyone was dead; the servants, the staff, her brothers, her parents. The one emptying the breath out of their lungs was her and she couldn't stop until she broke into a sniveling mess on her knees, straining to call out to one of the bodies lying limp before her.

The words that failed to escape tasted like death; dry, bitter, and flavored with copper. A gust of air blew in and rattled the crooked chandelier above, creating ghosts out of the shadows below and making them sway across lifeless expressions. Everything was painted in this sickening red that made her want to vomit. The deafening echoes of their dying gasps pierced through the howling wind and burrowed into the recesses of her mind. They had all spent their final moments in agony. It was written in the way their mouths hung agape as if they were still calling for mercy, and the wideness of their eyes as they stared emptily at the figure behind her.

Why? Why did the world suddenly go wrong?

. . .

* * *

. . .

20th Ward – Anteiku, Present Day

When Uta had told Aislynn that he was taking her and Jun to the 20th ward, every fibre of her being howled in refusal, but she voiced nothing. Aislynn realized she was in no place to slap away the hand he offered her. Now here she was, back where everything used to be; a place which brought about a nostalgia that made her heart and head feel heavy. She was so close to the life she had before yet it remained out of reach and irredeemable.

It's been about two weeks since Uta introduced her to this quaint place, Anteiku, and even though this was supposed to be a new chapter in her life, the previous one still lingered in her like a terrible disease eating her alive. Aislynn blinked at her reflection on the ceramic cup in her hands, a slight frown tugging at the corner of her lips. No matter how much she polished the glimmering surface, she could not get rid of the awful dirt staring back at her.

"Aislynn," a large hand placed something in front of her: a jar made of clear glass so that the perfect, brown squares inside were visible, "these are special 'sugar cubes' reserved only for our ghoul customers."

She gave a small nod despite having her mind elsewhere and retreated a few steps back. She kept her distance from Koma, the man instructing her. The _ghoul_ instructing her. Friendly faced, somewhat burly, and a bulbous nose to match his personality, he looked just like any other person working at an ordinary cafe with human employees. Except Anteiku wasn't an ordinary cafe and the only human employee was her.

Koma smiled doubtfully and suggested she try practicing the other recipes whenever she had the chance. He then left her alone so he could strike up a rather one-sided conversation with Irimi, a tall and collected woman with black hair. She had an air about her that breathed tolerance, which Aislynn assumed was needed to be able to work with Koma's random mentions of his days as "The Devil Ape".

Koma and Irimi were the ones training Aislynn—or least trying to help her get the hang of things. She did her best in being cooperative and despite having never worked a day in her life, she was at least diligent in the basics. It was her reluctance in interacting with others that was a hindrance. She was like a mouse huddled in the back of the cage. Although Aislynn was good at keeping eye-contact, she often avoided it by keeping her gaze low as if her mind was constantly plagued with something. Others would always have to ask her to repeat herself once or twice due to the softness of her voice and never approached anyone, rarely and barely conversed, and simply stood by as she watched with a scrutinizing eye. As a result, Koma and Irimi's guidance lacked effort. They thought her too fragile, like glass so thin it could shatter from the force of a whisper. It simply wouldn't work.

Aislynn just felt as though she didn't belong, that she was undeserving of a place full of people who talked without a worry in their heart and laughed without a single lie in their smile. They probably thought the same and, in spite of their kindness, most likely planned to drag her out in an alley one of these days to deal her the same treatment she gave to all the men she slaughtered.

"Hey. Set up the tables."

A scolding voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see the blue-haired waitress, Touka, walk away without another word. She was the first person at Anteiku, other than Yoshimura, that Aislynn had met.

The younger girl was by far the least welcoming, having harshly expressed strong caution against Aislynn the moment they were introduced. Even now, Touka still didn't seem very pleased with having a human around, especially one that proved to be useless.

"Yes, I'm sorry."

Aislynn couldn't blame her. While everyone else was busy, most of the time she was just an overlooked presence sitting in the corner, like a splintered mop that no one touched unless the good one was already in use. She didn't even have a uniform and hence, was not a real employee. Yoshimura has yet to deem her ready to serve actual customers and she was unsure if he ever will. Still, he had told Aislynn that he wanted her to earn her keep. So, for the time being, she helped out with set up in the morning and clean up at night. It was very little to do in return for what she was given: an apartment in the second floor above, a salary for necessities, and most importantly food for Jun. Food that was obtainable without having to lead people into deserted alleys.

When she discovered exactly how their meat was procured, Aislynn was immediately repulsed. The act of scavenging for suicide victims was wicked and grisly, but in the end they were nothing more than corpses. This was the most innocent way they could get by, she thought. It was simply just picking up food that's been dropped on the ground. At least they didn't corrupt themselves with taking lives, as she had.

She unstacked chairs and arranged them along the round tables, one by one, at a languid pace. Once finished, she went to check on the little thing moaning excitedly as he banged a plastic cup on the tray of his high chair. Jun remained absolutely smitten by the colorful object as Aislynn rubbed his back and adjusted the pale, yellow beanie to fit snugly around his tousled, brown hair. He squealed a bunch of baby gibberish when the cup slipped from his fingers and hit the hardwood floor below, his hand dipping over the side to reach for it. Aislynn breathed out a small chuckle and knelt down to retrieve it only for Jun to return to his previous distraction. Gently, she brushed a knuckle against the swell of one his smooth, velvet cheeks. He tilted his head and leaned further into her touch, causing a small smile to grace her features.

"Aislynn."

"I'm sorry," she flinched and turned around to face Irimi, who was holding a white gift bag in her hands.

"You're always apologizing, don't worry." Irimi's face didn't move much, but there was a hint of a pleasant grin on her usually placid face. She took a a few cautious steps toward Aislynn, as if careful not to spook a wild horse, and placed the strap of the bag in her grip.

Aislynn looked curiously at it, baffled, as if the object had fallen from the stars. The side of the bag was dotted with a series of cartoony animals that reminded her of a typical nursery.

"What...what's this?"

"It's still chilly this time of year so I thought it'd be nice for Jun to have some more clothes to keep him warm. I think they'll still be a little loose on him, but he'll grow quickly."

Aislynn had went out and bought a few items herself the other day, but she hadn't thought about shopping for more than a jumper and a new hat. Money was still an issue and she had to put it toward more vital necessities. Was warmer clothing crucial? It would be March soon and she had thought a small blanket would suffice until winter drew its last breath. Was she being ignorant? Incompetent? A familiar ache began to swell inside her, filling her ribcage with iron as she shuffled through the contents of the bag. Irimi was already taking better care of Jun, so what was the point of Aislynn being there and taking up space?

She put on a grateful smile and bowed her head slightly to keep the older woman from seeing the gloom in her eyes. "Th-thank you...I'm sorry for the trouble." In all honesty, Aislynn couldn't accept any of this. She didn't have the right to take advantage of their generosity.

She collected Jun in her arms and bid a quick farewell to Irimi, then to Koma and Touka, and exited through the door that lead to the living quarters above. Customers would be coming in soon, and she had been told that it would be best to stay out of sight until she was an actual waitress. However, that wasn't the reason she was scrambling up the steps. She just didn't want an audience to witness such a failure of a human being.

She quietly closed the door of her apartment and remained a statue in the dark until her shaky knees gave in to the weight of the disaster they were trying to support. She let the bag slip out of her grasp as her back hit the cold wood of the door. Hugging Jun the tightest she could without hurting him, she slowly sank to the floor into a pile of stifled sobs. Jun discarded his cup when he felt the heave of Aislynn's chest as shuddered breaths showered his back, and cooed softly when he nestled his head against her collarbone.

Her eyes stung as she tried to blink back tears, her vision blurring along with everything else. Streams spilled over her lashes and glided heavily down her cheeks, dripped off her chin, and landed on the hand that patted softly on Jun's head. A voice slithered out of its resting place in her memories and spat the venomous words that _he_ once used to put her in her place.

"_What the hell is it this time? Stupid cunt." _

She could hear the echo of things breaking as they crashed against walls, saw the ghost of objects being thrown at her, and felt the phantoms of his touch marking her body with lacerations and bruises.

"_What!? Why the fuck are you crying?"_

Because she was doing everything wrong, just like he said. Because she wasn't capable of anything, just like he said. She was dumb. She was weak. She was a deceitful, poisonous little tramp. Just. Like. He. Said.

The world wouldn't stop bleeding after her family's massacre. It was as if someone had stabbed it, dug their fingers into the gaping wound, peeled back the skin, and scrubbed salt into the raw flesh only to repeat the process over and over, never giving it a chance to heal. The past year had carved itself in her memory. She learned that she wasn't what she thought she was; she wasn't talented and she wasn't smart. Everything she saw herself to be was just a matter of pride sprouted from a flawless life that turned to complete shit once her resources of praise and comfort were dead and gone. She was worthless, vile, and depraved. It was her fault she was here.

. . .

The building grew quiet at the height of night. Closing time had passed and, after forming a barrier of pillows around Jun as he lay peacefully on the bed, Aislynn headed out to continue with the usual routine. She was steps away from reaching the stairs until the cafe manager emerged from the break room and called Aislynn inside.

"You don't have to clean up tonight. I would like to discuss some things with you."

Yoshimura had high brows and squinted eyes that made it appear as though he was always smiling. Perhaps he was, but Aislynn had no idea why he would be. His grayed hair and tall stature gave him the appeal of a wise man who oversaw everything with a grace and cordiality that exuded warmth. He was the least intimidating person at Anteiku; however, she was still hesitant to follow him into the room.

The sound of the door clicking shut sent chills jolting through her body. Even as she tried to mimic Yoshimura's composure, her nerves went haywire and turned her insides into a complete wreck. She already knew what was coming. He was about list every proof of her incompetence, a list that was so long that eventually his endless patience would betray him and his serene voice would burst into a viperous tone.

"Koma and Irimi tell me you have been shying away from them."

Aislynn swallowed. "I..I'm sorry. It's just..." For a long time the world had only consisted of _him_, her, and the poor souls that found themselves strapped to the dinner table. Then he disappeared right before Jun came into the picture, which was when she needed him most. His sudden absence became one of the many devastating mile markers along her path into the abyss.

"Does being here make you uneasy?"

"Yes...it does." Aislynn answered truthfully.

"The offer I made you the night you came here still stands."

Upon seeing Aislynn and hearing Uta's explanation of her, Yoshimura had given her the choice of either staying with Jun or leaving him in Anteiku's hands and returning to the human world, where she could live a normal life again and never look back.

She shook her head. To Aislynn, the idea sounded just as absurd as it had when he first suggested it. There was no way she could go back. There was nothing to return to. And how could she possibly live normally after everything she's done? There was no way she could walk amongst her friends again and pretend as if she had no idea what it was like to stab someone to death. The human world wasn't a place for her anymore. But then again, neither was the world of ghouls.

"I...I can't..." The words were stuck in her throat. Suddenly, she was plagued with the familiar feeling that death would come rapping against the door any second. "I don't belong here...or anywhere." That's right. How could she dare strive for a future when she robbed so many others of theirs?

"I'm not needed anymore." Jun was in good hands; in the custody of a family that would do a far better of job at taking care of him than she ever could. He'll learn confidence from Koma, wear all the nice clothes that Irimi buys him, and grow up strong like Touka and Yomo. Yoshimura will teach him how to be gentle and kind and most of all merciful. He'll never have to kill. He'll never have to be starved and weak and on the brink of death like he had been under Aislynn's care. "I don't know why I'm still here..."

There came no reply. Yoshimura stood over her, hands clasped behind his back, as a solemn frown marred his face. He was judging her, she could tell. He was weighing her life on the scales, but Aislynn already knew the verdict.

Growing uneasy under his gaze, her eyes flitted to the lamp beside her, the floor at her feet, the window, anywhere else. She didn't want to look at him when he brought the gavel down and declared judgment. She already knew what he was going to say, so she said the words for him. "There's only one place left for me, and it's Hell."

He still said nothing, but she took his silence as an agreement. Aislynn was all prepared to resign, to announce that she would do them the favor of dismissing herself from their presence until Yoshimura finally spoke up.

"Hell is no place for a guardian angel."

She looked up at him astonished, almost offended, that he would call her such a thing.

"You were kind enough to see him as a hapless child thrust into a cruel existence. The world needs more of that benevolence: sympathy, tenderness, charity. It would be a shame if what little light we still have were to be engulfed in the overwhelming darkness. He still needs you and as long as there's someone who needs you, that is where you belong."

"But—"

"I understand that you feel guilty for many things, but there is no need to keep that sword hanging over your head. Especially when you remind yourself of it every moment of your life. All of us at Anteiku have done things that we aren't proud of. Even Touka." Something in the way he spoke made it sound as though he was aware that there was more to Aislynn's guilt than the death of those men. It was almost as if he knew her, that he knew about the one thing she had yet to confess.

"Aislynn, no amount of regret can change the past; we cannot erase our crimes. However, that doesn't mean we can't salvage ourselves. Taking care of Jun can be your retribution."

He paused as his words engraved themselves into her mind, her gaze falling to his feet. The next thing he said sounded melancholy, like he was commenting on a sad song he hadn't heard in years.

"You made a miracle happen."

. . .

Aislynn returned to her apartment later that night with her head hung heavy in thought. She stared into the unlit entryway, quietly making her way to the bedroom as she replayed the previous conversation in her mind.

When the first domino tipped over she questioned why her perfect world had suddenly fallen apart, but now she realized what a naive understatement that was. The world has always been brutal, regardless of Aislynn or her mistakes. It was merciless in its morbid affection and abused the people it was meant to nurture. It was like a sadistic child playing with porcelain dolls, holding no regard for their fragility and leaving them broken and hollow.

The only light in the room was from the moon filtering through the gap in the curtains. Aislynn tiptoed through the dark and knelt at the bedside, taking down one of the pillow walls she had built. Watching Jun's small chest rise and fall to the rhythm of sleep, she reached out to caress the chubbiness of his tiny hand. It wasn't too long ago that he looked like he would perish from hunger, bony-limbed and pale. Now he was the picture of health; a bright complexion, round cheeks, and he was plump like every baby should be. He was growing more rapidly as well, and frequently made these delighted noises that could cause the coldest heart to faint in adoration.

She went still when Jun began to stir, kicking his feet at an invisible force and softly moaning something in his usual gibberish. His hand searched for something until he caught Aislynn in his grasp, his pudgy fingers wrapping around one of her own.

A wetness began to gather in her eyes, but these weren't the kind of tears that left you with a terrible, salty aftertaste. These were the bittersweet kind that appeared in the place of a laugh or a smile because you're body had no idea what to do when you were happy. This was the rain that opened up a space in your chest when the clouds finally faded.

"I'm sorry, Jun." She whispered. "I promise to try harder. I promise to be the kind of person that you need."

Aislynn knew she could never be the innocent girl she was before, but Yoshimura helped her realize that she had a reason to keep living.

She was still fated for damnation and was wracking up a debt that she would eventually pay with her own life. This enlightenment didn't change that fact. Neither God nor Aislynn herself could ever pardon the gravity of her crimes, she had become a demon. But until Heaven finally decided to strike her down, she'd protect Jun and raise him to be a beautiful person capable of giving this ugly world a bit of paradise. She promised not to let the darkness swallow this flame.

She continued to watch him a little longer until she was stifling yawns. Before the temptation of sleep pulled her eyes closed, she wondered: who was her guardian angel supposed to be?

. . .

* * *

**a/n: Certainly not Uta! :D Hehe. Hope the deeper insight on Aislynn was alright. As a future warning, things may only get more hectic from here. This IS an Uta fanfiction after all. I did categorize this as a tragedy and it's rated M for a reason.**

**Also, I may not be able to update for a while since the school year is almost at an end, graduation is coming up, and I gotta make sure I have everything in check so I can be part of said graduation. Until next time, I'd love to hear your feedback! Whether it be comment or critique, reading them is extremely encouraging. c:**

**Thank you~**


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